


Chestnuts Roasting

by Signe_chan



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: Bitty didn’t make it a habit to stick his nose into his neighbours business, but something was burning.He stood awkwardly for a second in the hallway between his apartment and his hot neighbours. There was no mistaking that smell. He knew, logically, that the hot neighbour was a grown man and could handle his own shit. He knew this.





	Chestnuts Roasting

Bitty didn’t make it a habit to stick his nose into his neighbours business, but something was burning. 

He stood awkwardly for a second in the hallway between his apartment and his hot neighbours. There was no mistaking that smell. He knew, logically, that the hot neighbour was a grown man and could handle his own shit. He knew this. 

He took a step towards the hot neighbours door. It wouldn’t really be pushing in. It wasn’t like he didn’t have experience in fixing baking disasters, it wasn’t like he was pushing his nose into something he knew nothing about. 

Okay, maybe he’d been looking for a reason to do this for weeks, but that didn’t make him a bad neighbour or a bad person. He’d been living in Providence for months now and making new friends was hard. He loved the people who worked in the social media consulting firm with him but none of them had really become friends yet and, well, Bitty was lonely. 

It wasn’t really intruding. He’d just knock. Offer some help. If the hot neighbour didn’t like it, he’d go away. 

He knocked on the door. 

There was no noise, and for a few seconds Bitty was left there, fist raised to knock, waiting. A million scenarios flashed through his head with the hot neighbour being angry, or just not opening the door at all. 

Then, footsteps. Bitty stepped back, dropped his fist. The door opened. 

Hot neighbour looked stressed. He was half covered in flour, barefoot in ratty sweats, and frowning. Bitty’s heart still leapt a little. 

“Yes,” hot neighbour said. 

“Oh, goodness, hello. I know we hadn’t been properly introduced but I’m your neighbour, Eric Bittle. Everyone just called me Bitty. Well, not everyone but, anyway, I live just across the hall here and I was just going home and I couldn’t help smelling that something was burning and I don’t want you to think I’m being nosy or anything but I know a thing or two about cooking and thought it’d just be neighbourly if I stopped by and offered to help. But if you don’t want me to I completely understand and I’ll just...” 

“Wait,” hot neighbour said, blinking, and maybe Eric had been talking a little too fast again. “You know about baking?” 

“Yes?” 

Hot neighbour held out his hand. “I’m Jack. I... I could actually really use some help.” 

Bitty’s heart fluttered. Jack. The hot guy was called Jack. 

“Well, I’m more than happy to help.” 

Jack nodded, then stepped back and Bitty took his cue, sliding into Jack’s apartment. 

Jack’s place was much bigger and nicer than his, though his was hardly to be sneezed at. The place looked much more lived in than Bitty’s, like Jack had been here a while. He found himself scanning the walls, photos of a house, a quad somewhere. There was a Falconer’s throw on the couch and a pool table that looked abandoned half way through a game. 

It was nice. 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, shuffling along behind Bitty. “I know you probably have a lot to do.” 

“Oh, bless your soul, this is fine,” Bitty said, smiling encouragingly. “I just love to bake. Don’t get to do it as much here as I did when I lived with my momma down home.” 

“I don’t normally cook,” Jack said, still trailing behind. Bitty nodded then made his way through to where he guessed the kitchen would be. He was right, and the place looked a mess. The oven door was stood open, the burnt attempts at what might have been sugar cookies still inside it. 

“I can see that,” Bitty said, his mouth running away with him. He glanced over to see Jack flushing, looking unhappy, and they couldn’t have that. “But don’t you worry, we can get this all sorted out in no time at all. What were you trying to make?” 

“Cookies,” Jack sighed. “There’s a party tomorrow at work and I thought they’d be easy. I’ve made them before.” 

“I’m sure you have,” Bitty agreed. He made his way around to the oven, grabbing an oven glove to take the tray out then closing the door. “Sugar cookies are trickier than you’d think. Why don’t we clean all this up then we can start again from scratch?” 

Jack looked so desperately glad to be given something to do that Bitty couldn’t help but smile at him and start directing. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to set the kitchen back to rights. While they did, Jack mostly just looked embarrassed and apologised in that cute French Canadian accent of his so Bitty took it on himself to fill the silence, telling Jack about Christmas in Georgia and the kinds of baking he and his momma usually got up to. 

Jack’s kitchen, when clean, was bigger and nicer than Bitty’s, but not as well stocked. Bitty found himself humming over the pantry. 

“Do we need more things?” Jack asked, uncertain. “I can go to the shop?” 

“That depends, hon. How many colleagues are you thinking of feeding?” 

“A lot,” Jack said, looking vaguely embarrassed again. “And they eat a lot too. I should probably just buy cookies. I should probably have just bought them from the start.” 

“Nonsense, we’ve got this. But how many is a lot? Big family party a lot or feeding an entire hockey team a lot?” 

“Oh, I didn’t think you knew.” 

Bitty glanced over, frowning. Jack was looking resigned. Sad, even. He thought back over what he’d said but didn’t know that he’d done anything to put that expression there. 

“Knew what, hun?” 

“That I’m... y’know?” 

“You’re y’know?” Bitty thought back. He’d talked about portion size. Family. Hockey team. And, ho goodness. “You play for the Falconers?” He blurted it out and as soon as he did he was mortified, brining his hand up to cover his mouth. “Oh goodness, that was rude of me. Sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you are.” 

“I... you didn’t know?” 

“You do play for them?” 

“Yeah. I’m the Captain. I just thought... why did you say about hockey teams?” 

“I played,” Bitty said, blushing again. Professional hockey player. They would certainly explain the ass he’d been trying to be subtle about ogling. “I mean, it was a long time ago, in college. I got dropped from the team after my first year because I could never quite manage to take a check but I still spent a lot of time with the hockey boys, you know. Baking for them and such. I was team manager in my final year. I just, when I think of feeding a big group of people...” 

“You think of hockey,” Jack finished. “I, yeah. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t want you to know. It’s just that sometimes people get weird when they find out so...” 

“Well,” Bitty said, setting his shoulders. “I promise you that I will NOT get weird. But, also, if we’re baking for an entire hockey team, we’re going to need more butter.” 

There was a second of silence, then Jack chortled. Bitty turned to him, nodded, then went to check on sugar levels. Cooking for a hockey team was something he could do. Even if his hot neighbour was apparently even more out of his league than he’d thought. 

They walked to the store together, sticking to safe topics. Bitty talked about college and a little about his job, how shocked he’d been to get such a well paying position only a few years out of college but how he was really loving it. Jack talked about Christmas in Canada, watching his dad making dinner and skating outside. 

They mixed up the batter with Christmas carols in the background and quiet conversation. They talked about Christmases they’d spent away from home, how important teammates were. They talked about their favourite Christmas foods and tree decorating rituals. About their families and friends. 

While the cookies cooked, sheet after sheet, Jack set up a Christmas move on the TV in the kitchen and the watched it together, laughing about how bad it was. It made Bitty feel warm. Secure. It made him feel, for the first time in a long time, like he was home. 

They moved the movie to the lounge while the cookies cooled, and Bitty found himself sat on Jack’s couch, wrapped in Jack’s Falconer’s blanket, laughing along to the movie and to Jack’s chirps. Jack looked so pleased with himself whenever he started a laugh out of Bitty that Bitty maybe laughed a little more freely and easily than he normally would. 

Jack hadn’t really thought about frosting to Bitty had to run home for his icing bags and nozzles then they spent a good hour sat at Jack’s kitchen island, carefully adding smiled to snowmen and adding the patterns on snowflakes. Under the island, their legs pressed together as they talked about their families and their hopes and it couldn’t just be Bitty imagining things? 

Only he was very good at imagining things and Jack was a pro-athlete. Even if he was gay, which he probably wasn’t, what would he see in someone like Bitty? 

They finished the cookies, leaving them on Jack’s counters to set, and it slowly occurred to Bitty that he had no reason to be there any more. It’d been fun, sweet, but Jack wouldn’t want him hanging around forever and, besides, it was getting late. He had work in the morning then a weekend to himself. 

He stopped himself frowning at his icing nozzles as he gathered them up, but only just. He made his excuses. Made his way to the hall. Was desperately trying to think of something to say that’d let his stay as he gathered his coat. 

“The party’s tomorrow.” 

Bitty looked at Jack and blinked. “I... good luck?” 

“No, I mean, shit, I’m not good at this. I just, I thought maybe you’d like to come. To the party. With me. As, I mean, like, a date. I’d like to go on a date with you. Though maybe not to the Falconer’s Christmas party, actually, because the guy will be fucking ridiculous and that’s a lot for a first date but...” 

“Jack,” Bitty said, feeling a smile all the way up to his cheeks. “I know how to handle a little chirping. I’d love to.” 

“Oh,” Jack said, and he looked so pleased. Probably more pleased than Bitty deserved but he wasn’t going to judge. “I... yeah. Thanks, I mean. Or... yeah. I can pick you up at seven?” 

“I’d love that,” Eric smiled. Jack had asked him out. Really asked him out, on a date. They were going to go on a date. 

Oh lord. 

It must have taken a lot for Jack to do that, if the blushing and the stammering were anything to go by, and Eric felt a rush of fondness. If Jack was going to be brave, he could too. 

He set his bag and his coat down then stepped in. Reached out to touch Jack’s cheek. Jack blinked for a second then seemed to realise what Bitty was aiming for. He smiled too, leant down to meet Bitty half way. 

The kiss was soft, sweet. Full of promise and tenderness and Bitty wanted it to last forever. 

When Jack did pull back, it was with a sigh. As much as Bitty wanted to cling to him, keep him close, he let him go. Smiled up at him. 

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow for our second date?” 

Jack beamed. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Zimmbits for christmas! This makes us, unless I'm mistaken, 6/12 for our fic of christmas. I have... one more written so I might have to write faster XD 
> 
> Come chat to me on tumblr - http://signechan.tumblr.com/


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